She felt for a pulse
by SweetMango22
Summary: Someone from Peter's past is out for revenge and he takes it out on our favorite con artist to hurt Peter even more. Can Chrystal help them before it is too late? Neal!whump & Peter!whump. I do not own these characters. Rated M for violence, language and suggested adult themes. Don't read if that bothers you.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome readers. Here is a look into the darker corner of my brain. This is an old story that I just never published, more to come soooon. Please R&R!**

**Read the warnings! They are there for a reason.**

-o-O-o-

**Chapter 1**

She felt for a pulse...

Got it, good. Then the other one, good, they were both alive but not doing well at all. Chrystal was walking back home when she saw them. Two men, hanging by the arms in the middle of the woods. Stripped down to undershirts and boxers, she was surprised that they weren't frozen stiff. They must have only been out for a bit because nights were bitter cold now. The sun was starting to set so a brilliant orange shown through the trees, taking whatever bit of warmth with it. Soon it would be in the 40's and in the morning a new layer of frost would coat the forrest floor.

She went to get a closer look at the younger man. His face was bloodied and badly bruised. Duct tape covered his mouth and wrapped around his head a couple times, it looked too tight and would be painful to remove. The light revealed the ugly bruises on his chest and deep lashes on his back. He was too skinny, attractive but too skinny. There were burns scattered around his body either just from a lighter or from cigars. She put her hand on his face. He was so cold, so she double checked his pulse and it was there but not as strong as it should be. She shook him ever so gently but a soft look of pain crossed his face so she stopped. Despite the cold Chrystal pulled off her hat and put it on the younger man and wrapped her scarf around the older man. Now what? She had no phone, no money, and no way to help both of them. Her instincts screamed at her to help but what could she do? Going over to the other man, she noticed much of the same. Except the duct tape had been pulled from his mouth and was hanging limply there on the side of his face. When she pulled up his bloodied shirt she froze. FBI. The shiny badge glared back at her. Her first instinct was to run, fast. She was a runaway and didn't want any sort of Federal attention. But she just wasn't the type of person to not help. _These were the good guys, what happened?_

When she looked back to his face, his light brown eyes were looking back at her. He started to breath a little heavier. The pain and cold combined must be excruciating, Chrystal thought. "Please," he breathed the cold air in to his lungs, "Help us."

"Yeah, um okay." Chrystal reassured him, "who are you and what is going on?" He closed his eyes for a second, she couldn't tell if it was out of exhaustion or gratitude that she didn't bolt. Hopefully the scarf was helping a little with the cold.

"My name is Agent Peter Burke... Please, help." He slumped again.

"Peter?" She shook him lightly to get him to open his eyes again, she needed more information than that. "I want to help Peter, tell me what is going on." She started to examine how he was tied but her stopped her.

What he said next surprised her "you have to go, they'll be back soon." He looked more alert now and worried. "I think they are going to leave my friend to die out here. Please go and hide, then help him. Help him, then contact the White Collar unit in New York. Tell them you've seen me and bring help." He tried to shift and winced in pain. Chrystal could see the zip ties digging into his wrists. "Tell them where I am, hopefully it won't be too late."

"I I-I..." She stammered. "I can't just help you now? Who is coming back, why are they doing this to you?"

"Too much to explain, I will if we all get outta here. I promise."

"Okay, I guess I trust you, I'll do whatever to help." Chrystal wanted to keep him talking. "What is his name?" She nodded towards the other guy.

"His name is Neal Caffery, how is he?" He asked almost pleading.

"He's good. He's gonna be fine" she lied and moved back towards Neal to check his pulse again. She felt it, his heart beating weakly in his battered frame. The still sticky blood on his neck was cold and coated her fingers. For just a second she felt like she was going to be sick. She didn't mind blood really but the amount was shocking. She knew what she had to do so she shook her head and that was the end of being scared. "When do you think they'll be..." A sound in the distance stopped her and both Peter and her looked toward the sound. It sounded like snowmobiles. She had to hide that she had been there or it would just be worse for them, and for her. Grabbing her hat from Neal, then the scarf from Peter she turned to him and reassured. "I'll do whatever I can, just hold on, okay?"

"Thank you. Just please help him, none of this is his fault." Peter struggled to get the words out, then composed himself. "Get out of here, run!"

So she ran. About 60 feet away there was some heavier brush where she could still see well enough. She just had to keep her eyes on Neal. Terrible thoughts started going through her head. _What if I have to watch them both __die? What if they kill Neal and I can't do anything for him? What if they __see me? What would they do to me if they saw me?_ A panic attack almost drove her further away, but by that time, three grown men were already approaching the agents.

Hard punches to Peter's gut made him groan and swing on his tether. The men used smelling salts to wake Neal up, he was already in pain. The men poked and prodded bruises and cuts. They were drunk, and angry. She could only hear some of what they were saying. "How does it feel? ... kill Caffrey...never get home to your wife." Another round of blows. Two of them teaming up on Neal and the leader on Peter. When she heard a rib crack, it almost made her sick.

_How are either of them still alive?_ Chrystal though. Both men's heads were limp. The main guy grabbed Peter by his hair and slapped him awake. "Pity...your friend...say goodbye."

"No, please!" Peter spoke. Then a louder yell "No!" Peter reacted when the two henchmen, unhooked Neal from where he was hanging and let him crumple to the ground roughly. He stirred only a little before getting pulled to Peter's eye level.

"Anything you need to tell Neal, Peter?"

"Please don't do this. PLEASE!" He begged, seeing the damage of his friend up close made his stomach turn.

"We are going to kill your little pet Peter. That's it, anything else you need to tell him?"

"Neal?" Neal stirred just a bit, struggling to open his eyes, Chrystal couldn't tell if he was awake or not but Peter spoke anyway. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I... "

They pulled Neal back and pushed him face down into the cold ground.

"Sick bastards, Neal I'm so sorry!" Peter's voice was full of the emotions he was trying to hold back.

The three of them continued to kick Neal on the ground while Peter was screaming for them to stop. He begged. "Please just leave him alone!" It seemed like forever before they did and by then Neal was a crumpled up mess.

_Was he dead already?_ Peter was sobbing. "Neal, I'M SORRY!" And with that they dragged Peter to one of the snowmobiles and drove away.

**The more reviews and follows I get, the quicker I'll be motivated to upload more! Thanks guys!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Not much input from Chapter 1. Come on Collars, let me know what you think! I want good and bad reviews, anything helps to keep the creative juices flowing. Enjoy chapter 2! **

-o-O-o-

**Chapter 2**

Chrystal was frozen. When she left home this morning she knew what today was going to be. It was going to be a walk out to her traps, taking home whatever she caught. Curling up with a good book while dinner was cooking and she still had light. By herself, like she had done for months. Today was not find an FBI agent day, watch a man get beaten to a pulp _(if not to death) _and proceed to help by hiking her ass back to the city to tell the FBI that she knows where one of their agents is only after checking on Neal. She moved slowly to where he was laying. He had looked terrible before but now it was like looking down at a chunk of raw meat. His face was so badly swollen it almost didn't even look like a face. Blood drenched the ground around him and at first glance it didn't look like his chest was moving at all. Feeling for a pulse like she did earlier, she was quite surprised to find one, it was there but faint.

His body was wet with blood. She thought to herself that it would be better for both of them if he was dead already. She could focus on helping Peter who was still okay and he would be free from pain. But then she felt terrible, she promised Peter that she would try and help Neal. But in helping Neal it was going to take her a lot longer to get back to help Peter. She carefully pulled the tape away from his mouth, and was relieved when he swallowed big gulps of air.

"Okay. Breath, for both of us."

First things first was that she had to stop the bleeding and she had to get him warm. She tried lifting him but his body was too slippery she would have to try to clean him up first. Her cottage was about a mile and a half walk. She stripped down to her undershirt and long johns and put her warm clothes on his bloody body, she needed the traction to keep a hold of him and he needed the warmth. The cold bit at her right away. If it were not for the physical activity of carrying Neal she wouldn't have been able to manage. But within 30 minutes she was home.

He needed heat and to be clean... so it only made sense. She turned the water to warm and peeled the bloody clothes off Neal, hopefully he didn't wake up shy. Nudity didn't bother Chrystal because once upon a time she had been in med school. _Okay, focus on helping Neal,_ she thought not wanting to hurt him by warming him up too fast but he was nearly frozen. She lowered him slowly into the warm water, cradling his head and neck. While the tub filled around him, she took a cool washcloth and started to clean away the grime from his battered face. It was so swollen and broken she worried that it might be infected but there was no way to tell if he had a fever since he had been left outside in the cold for so long. He stirred a little but didn't wake. A sound like a whimper and a moan escaped his lips, then more pain. He shifted slightly but the pain must have been overwhelming because his swollen eyes pressed together in agony before going limp once more.

"You're okay" Chrystal soothed. He really wasn't but she hoped her words would make him better. She wanted answers more than anything. _What happened? Who were those guys? Why would they do this?_ It was way out of her comfort zone to do something so risky without any information. She steadied him in the tub so he wouldn't slip into the water. _Who knows what Peter is going though right now_. She wished that she had a phone but she was in the woods to get away from people. "You're gonna be okay, just hold on Neal."

After getting Neal warmed up she pulled him out of the filthy bath water and started to assess the damage a little closer. He was very thin, his skin seemed loose and rubbery. Small cigarettes burns patterned his neck behind his ear and down his collar bone. His wrists were raw from being bound and it looked like cuffed as well where there were deeper cuts. Bruises from head to toe were different shades of purple, red, green and a mean yellow color. The most blood loss seemed to be from the whip lashes covering his back. After soaking in the tub, crusty scabs were still seeping blood and infection. _Well, that needs to be cleaned up,_ Chrystal sighed. It was too cold to go for help tonight so she might as well clean Neal up the best she could. She laid down a thick blanket then a towel next to the fireplace so she could see and keep them both warm. Using a washcloth soaked in diluted alcohol she started to ever so gently scrub away the the grime and pus that didn't come off in the bath. After applying some burn cream she carefully turned him around and tried to force down some pain reliever and water.

"Come on Neal, you need this." She crooned. "Come on buddy, you have to swallow" He choked on the water and the medicine was once again in Chrystal's hand. She settled down a little more so the back of Neal's head was resting right under her collar bone. "Neal" she whispered into his ear. "I promised Peter I would help you but I need you to cooperate too. Take this please!" She pleaded with the unconscious man and tried again to place the medicine in his mouth and pour some water through his dry lips. He finally got it down and Chrystal praised him quietly "Good Neal, okay, good job. More water now?" She poured in couple more swallows before she rolled him again to his stomach to rest and properly covered his back with gauze. If he wasn't awake tomorrow it would be hard to get help for Peter.

About every 4 hours throughout the night she tried to get more liquid and medicine into him. It was an event every time she tried but after a bit he woke up just enough to realize that he should swallow. He was shivering despite the warmth from the fire and blankets surrounding him. _Great, that means an infection,_ Chrystal thought.

While she was bustling around to get a quick breakfast, Neal started to stir. His body still screaming at him. He looked around for the first time, trying to take it all in. No idea where he was or how he got there. He was laying stomach down on an old orange towel, with a thick pastel quilt draped over him. He tried to turn over but the pain wouldn't let him. A moan escaped his lips and a girl rushed over to him.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked, not really expecting an answer. "Let's get you flipped over" When he was on his back he studied her. Young, probably early 20's, pretty enough. She wore a long sleeve plaid flannel shirt that fit her comfortably but still showed off her figure a little. Her face was covered with concern while she felt his forehead and checked his injuries, that didn't make him feel any better. He cleared his throat and even that killed, like it cracked open it was so dry. She seemed to get the hint and moved to the kitchen to get a cup of water with a straw. She spoke at him then offered the water after propping him against her chest. He flinched with every movement, the gashes in his back being scraped ever so slightly by the fabric of her jeans."There you go buddy" she sighed. The cool water coated his throat. It tasted so good, he gulped it down but before too long the girl stopped him. "Take is slow, its not going anywhere. Sips, when you need them, I don't want you getting sick. How are you feeling?" She asked, gently resting the back of her hand to his forehead. Neal heard her voice echoing in his brain but the pain streaming trough his body made him feel like he was in a sort of a haze.

Her kindness was foreign to him. After what seemed like a lifetime of beatings, verbal abuse, sexual abuse and being whipped he didn't think he would ever feel human again. "I've been bet'r" he whispered. _How long had Peter and him been captive? Peter... where was he?!_ Panic set in. "Peter?" Neal croaked. His eyes darting around again.

"Shhhhh, don't freak out. I'm going to the FBI once I get you to a Hospital. Peter's orders." It didn't seem to calm Neal much at all.

"That'd be too late!" Neal's voice sounded dry and wrong to him.

She offered him more water and reminded him to sip it. "We NEED to get you to a hospital. Your back is very infected, and you lost so much blood. Hypothermia, it looks like you could have broken ribs and whatever else they did to you. I promised Peter." She sighed.

Neal didn't have a lot of strength to argue. "We need to 'elp 'im." Sweat from the infection was glistening on his skin, and he was starting to lose it again.

"Sleep for a bit longer, then we'll talk." And he passed out.

Chrystal got a cool damp cloth and put in on his forehead, if his fever would break it would be a lot easier to get him somewhere. Or what if she did just go for help by herself? It would be faster and then she would just bring help for Neal and for Peter. But if anything happened to Neal, she would feel awful.

She kept forcing him to drink, just little sips every 10 minutes or so. He started shivering harder, not a good sign with so many blankets around him. If the infection got to his blood before she could get him help, he would be a goner. He needed food so she got the applesauce out of her pantry and started to feed him spoonfuls, coaxing him to swallow. He kept his eyes closed but ate a few bites before he wouldn't anymore.

It was around mid-morning when he woke again.

"We need to talk," she told him seriously. His eyes seemed crazy from the heat and they wandered around the cabin an back to her. Crazy, terrifying dreams and now his mind was burning and playing tricks with him. He could see Kate, she was cradling him and then shouted in pain. He flinched and tightened his eyes to try and block her out before hearing another voice. "Hey Neal, hey, HEY!" She had his face in her hands and forced his attention to her. "You are very sick. We need to get you to the hospital. Can you walk?"

Her words were sinking in. He was back in the cabin, on an old couch now, safe with the stranger that saved his life. "I'll try" Neal replied, his mind clearing some.

"Okay, here let me help you." She leaned in close so Neal could throw his arm around her neck and try to pull himself up. He cried out in pain when his torso twisted even the slightest bit but he kept moving. He was standing upright now but his legs seemed wobbly. When he put extra pressure on his right leg he started to fall. Chrystal caught him.

"Is it broken?" She eased him back down but the pain shooting through him deafened him and black spots started closing in on him. "Neal?!"

"I'm sorry." he apologized before passing out.

"Damn. Well you are polite, that's nice" Chrystal let him rest for about an hour then woke him again, but he was so exhausted it was hard.

"Help is about a two hour walk away, you can't even stand. Would you be okay for a few hours? It's the only way to get you and Peter some help." Neal nodded. "Okay, here take this" she gently cradled the back of his head so he was upright enough to swallow some more medicine for his fever. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." he replied.

So she bopped up and brought over the applesauce. They talked in-between bites.

"Why are you helping me?" His voice was weak but he seemed all there.

"I don't think you did anything wrong and no one deserves what they did to you and Peter. I hope anyone would help someone who needs it." She answered.

"Hm" Neal mused. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"My name is Chrystal, nice to meet you Neal" She could tell he was about to lose it again so she put the jar down and helped him lay flat again. I'm putting water here for you, don't drink it too fast and stay out of trouble while I'm gone, okay?"

Neal shot her a sleepy smile. "Nice to meet you too... Thank you for everything and hurry back okay?" Sleepiness was taking over again.

"I will Neal."

And with that Chrystal packed up and headed out after locking Neal in. _Would anyone even believe her?__Will Neal be okay? Is Peter already dead?_ She had a two hour walk to think through all the scenarios.

-o-O-o-

_Neal was left alone._

_The haze would lift, then return._

_Panic would set in, before remembering._

_His body was drenched in sweat._

_Then the dreams began._

-oOo-

"Operator, where my I direct your call?"

"The FBI please, White Collar division, New York City."

"Procedure requests that I acquire the nature of this call"

"It's an emergency"

"Please hold, I'll connect you."

-oOo-

_He dreamed that he was drenched again in blood._

_He dreamed about Kate._

_He dreamed he would be trapped forever._

_He dreamed about Heaven._

_He dreamed he was in his own version of Hell._

-oOo-

"White Collar division, Diana speaking."

"I've seen Peter Burke and Neal."

"What? Who is this?" away from the phone "Jones, get Hughes!"

"My name is Chrystal, they need help"

"Where are you? We're on our way"

-oOo-

_He tested his movement and tried to sit up_

_Nope, still hurt._

_Soul searching._

_Peter might be dead already._

_He placed all his trust in a girl he knew nothing about._

-o-O-o-

**TBC! Please R&R!**


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